“Fuck me, Kylie.” He grinds against my ass almost brutally as a growl rumbles in his chest. “Do you want me to come in my pants?”
“I’d rather you do it in my pussy, but whatever floats your boat.”
He growls again, but this one is more painful than his first.
I slant my head back to peer up at him. He looks seconds from being sick. “What is it?”
“I don’t have any condoms left. We used the last one on the plane.”
I shouldn’t smirk, but I do. Joining the mile high club is as riveting as it sounds. Most likely because we had access to the business class bathrooms, but either way, it was a fun task to cross off my list.
“Then we’ll fool around like naughty teens whose parents are sleeping only one room over.” I open the pool gate before steering him toward the double cabana at one side. They’re an addition the pool room didn’t have the last time I was here.
“Or I could just fuck you without one—”
“Slater, don’t. You have rules, and I’m fine with that.”
He sits on the padded cabana seat before pulling me down so I’m straddling his lap. “My rules don’t apply to you.”
“Why, because I’m the reason you made them?”
I gasp in a sharp breath when he nods. “I originally made them for these.” He runs his index finger over my lips. “But these will need their own set of rules as well.” His hand drops to the buds straining against my thin shirt. “Then we’ll throw an entire fucking book at the area getting warmer the more I speak.”
“It’s always hot and slippery around you. I can’t help it. You make me want to be all types of naughty.”
He drags his teeth over his lower lip in a totally sexy way. “Show me.”
The way he makes me feel invincible is displayed in the most glorious way when I slip off his lap and scoot back until my back is flush with the thick material of the cabana. With my eyes locked on his, I sweep open my thighs. Mere years ago, I would have never been bold enough to do something so wickedly deviant. Now, I’d do anything to keep the spark his eyes are holding. They may be brimming with lust, but I’m paying more attention to the glint hiding deep beneath their hungry haze.
I shiver at the growl that rolls up Slater’s chest when I slip my panties to the side. I could take them off entirely, but this feels more risqué, like we’re seconds from being busted. The thrill adds to the heat pumping through my veins.
His tongue slides across his lips, following the trail my finger makes down the nude lips of my pussy. I waxed mere days ago, meaning every glistening inch of me is exposed to his ravenous eyes.
“Do it,” he whispers when the tip of my finger breaks through the seal of my throbbing sex. “Fuck yourself there.”
We moan in sync when I slip my finger inside myself. My finger is nowhere near as girthy as Slater’s but it still feels phenomenal. That probably has more to do with Slater’s cock springing out of his jeans than anything else. He’s the thickest I’ve seen him, his head as purple as my helmet.
“Keep going,” he encourages, inching closer to me. “But also do this.” My back arches when he adjusts my hand so my palm grinds down on my clit with every pump my finger does. “Feel good?”
“Uh-huh.”
I thrust my finger in deeper when he fists his big, thick cock. He strokes it at a speed matching my pumps, a brutal fucking pace that leaves no doubt to how unhinged we are for one another. We’re still fully clothed, with only the most intimate parts of our bodies on display, but the energy is electrifying. I can imagine how the hard bumps in his stomach are contracting as he rocks his hips like he does while fucking me, and how he always adds an extra flick to his pumps to ensure he hits the sweet spot inside of me.
My fingertip doesn’t come close to the reach his cock gets, but my imagination is wonderous, and it soon has me racing toward climax. My leisurely jog breaks into a sprint when the scruff on Slater’s chin scratches my inner thigh. He knows I’m close, and he’s not willing to let an orgasm slip away without getting a taste of the sweetness he’s consumed a minimum of once a day the past five weeks. The thought alone sets me off.
With my fingers stilled and my ass lifted off the cabana, I thrust my quivering sex into his face, mashing it with his mouth. As I call his name into the warm night air, Slater drags his tongue up my glistening slit and around my stationary digit before flicking it over the bud, sending delicious zaps over every inch of my body.
Chapter Thirty
Kylie
“Idon’t know what I find sexier.” My eyes turn to Slater sitting in the passenger seat of his car. “You on your bike or in this car.”
Grinning, he revs his engine, sending a nice purr through my seat. The tingling sensation mimics the ones my pussy was hit with when he slid behind the steering wheel of his sexy dark gray car. I don’t know much about cars, but this one is nearly as gorgeous as its driver.
I keep my eyes on Slater’s profile the entire thirty-minute trip from Noah’s cabin to his condo. I’m not the only one gawking. His eyes continually flash over to mine as well. Once I bust his perverted gaze, he awards me a quick smirk before returning his focus to the road. I’m glad he hasn’t been treating me differently since he found out my secret. Most people act awkward, like I’m breakable or something. Dylan did. My friends did. Even my parents did. The only ones who haven’t are Melanie and Slater. They still treat me as if I am me, not someone who was dying. Just me.
My eyes go crazy when we pull into an apartment building near the docks. The building is a warehouse conversion with exposed brickwork and black steel features. It suits Slater to a T: tough, rugged, and gorgeous.
